


My Sideways Chariot

by crankyoldman



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyoldman/pseuds/crankyoldman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of the important memories in Shera's life, told in her own words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sideways Chariot

**Author's Note:**

> Meant this to be a one-shot but realized I had a terrible lot to write about the missing details in Shera's life. The title comes from a quote from the astronaut Michael Collins (aka: the guy who didn't get to walk on the moon and had to stay in the command module for Apollo 11):
> 
> "We are gliding across the world in total silence, with absolute smoothness; a motion of stately grace which makes me feel godlike as I stand erect in my sideways chariot, cruising the night sky."
> 
> Breaking up the sections by specific periods of her life, this is just the first one I feel comfortable putting up for public consumption.

“Who were you before Cid?”

Tifa is a lot of things that Shera wished she had been, and a lot of things she would never want to be all in the same package. But of any of the Captain’s new friends, she was the only one that had bothered to come to visit _Shera_ not Cid-and-Shera or simply the Captain. And since the number of friends she could declare her own could be counted on one hand, Shera let it grow as it wanted to. Naturally slowly, considering that Rocket Town was nowhere near the shiny center of anything at all these days.

“You make it sound like he turned me into a different person. I’ve always been this way, dear.”

Shera hoped the _dear_ wasn’t too patronizing. She looked much younger than she actually was; family trait combined with a much healthier lifestyle than many of her colleagues. The Captain was lucky his hair was so blonde, or else the gray hairs might be more visible.

“No, I mean, that’s not what I meant.”

Tifa is a thousand stories, most told only to herself. Everyone had their ways of coping, and some people would find Shera’s methods to be a little less than inspiring. At least Shera wasn’t going to pretend that Tifa was going to fix all of her problems or hope that she would Unlike some people.

“You just want to hear stories, I suppose.”

That was what the offer to mix from the various bottles of things around the house--mostly untouched, mind--had been for. Tifa probably spent too much time mixing for others to imbibe much herself, so to see that their glasses had similar levels was a comfort.

“Oh alright. Chime in where you feel necessary.”  
\---

Her first day of college, and she was already behind.

Shera was the best at her school, but that wasn't saying much. Most of her classmates dropped out early to be farmers or go work in the mines, the mere fact she got a diploma at all was almost enough. Her mom had warned her about the big city and its 'big city ways' but quite frankly the hustle was disconcerting moreso than any corruption.

"You lost? I think the teaching building is on the other side of campus."

"No, I'm trying to find my Physics class..."

Mom had been wrong about the people being cold. Several nice young men had stopped and tried to help her find her classes. Unfortunately they all kept assuming she was in the wrong part of the college. Did she look that much like a bumpkin?

" _Oh._ Well that building is straight ahead."

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to go with the overalls. She'd worn them because she'd assumed as an Engineering major she'd be working with machines. But the classes she'd had so far that day had just been old men droning on in front of chalkboards, working out math that she was going to have to spend a lot of extra time catching up to. Though she'd tested into Calculus, Shera had never had a single class in it. Milford didn't offer it, and what little she'd had in order to pass the test had been done through correspondence.

If only someone had told her that she’d have to relearn everything again three-fold. Maybe she would have been prepared.

The buildings were tall, made of stone that had been shipped from somewhere else, judging by how it weathered in the city's unique combination of pollution and weather. It was strangely comforting to realize that the buildings towered over everyone, making them all rather small in the academic Institution. And judging by the various young men filing in through the large doors of the Physics Building, she was behind, but not too late.

The only seats left were in the very front, which would have probably not endeared her to any peers she might later need help from, and a few scattered in the middle. Shera picked as far front in the middle section as she could; her eyesight had never been particularly good and she was due for yet another prescription increase for her glasses. Perhaps the Midgar optometrists would have an easier time making glasses she could see out of than back in Milford.

She sat next to a boy that didn't look particularly metropolitan either. He gave her a quick glance and stared at his blank notebook page, obviously not wanting to engage in conversation with anyone. The young men in the back were talking and laughing loudly, and one of them threw a paper airplane towards the front. Shera couldn't help but think that it would have flown a bit better if they'd put a paperclip on it for balance.

"Alright, settle down! This is a classroom, not a gymnasium."

Shera's heart lifted. The professor that walked in reminded her of Buck, the old mechanic that had shown her how to weld. _Something_ familiar at least. Everyone but the boys in the back quieted down.

"I'm Professor Drake," his handwriting was unusually readable compared to the other professors she'd had that day as he put the name on the board, "And if you're not supposed to be in Introductory Physics for Engineers, please _quietly_ get out of here."

A boy to her left, who seemed like he'd been about ready to fall asleep started, grabbed his things and shuffled out. The boys in the back murmured and snickered.

Professor Drake smiled in an amused manner. "There's always at least one. Alright! Since this is my only course I teach to Freshmen, I'm going to lay it out straight. Nearly half of you are going to fail this course, drop out, or decide to switch career paths. Maybe even join a cult. Don't let the _introductory_ in the course title fool you."

Shera sat a little lower in her seat.

"I have zero tolerance for shenanigans, so if you're going to _continue talking about your meaningless lives_ you can go join sleepyhead."

It was blissfully silent. Professor Drake was also more animated than the other professors. While most of the math still didn't make sense as he wrote it, and Shera copied it down for decoding later, he'd brought with him a couple of contraptions to demonstrate the day's concept of Kinematics. And unlike Calculus and the survey course she'd taken that day, she didn't find herself staring at the clock.

Maybe... maybe she would be part of the half that passed this course.

"I hope you all took plenty of notes, I'm not going to be repeating anything. Review is something you do on your own time. Any questions?"

Hands shot up all around her, though it was quickly evident they were all concerned about grades; grading schemes, curves, tests. Not one had a question about the lecture or the professor himself. Shera only had one question, but she doubted that any of the others wanted to hear the answer. So she kept her hand down.

She tried to keep her head down too as they filed out of the classroom. But she was stopped by a tap on her shoulder.

"Sorry, but I couldn't help but notice you were paying so much attention, and yet you had no questions. You that genius girl Dr. Green has been talking so much about?" Professor Drake was a lot taller up close than he'd been from her seat in the middle of the classroom. Buck had been much shorter, like she was.

"Um... no, I'm not a genius at all. Only clever."

Shera knew enough of how to read people to tell that the expression was disappointment.

“Still, you pay attention. I’m sure you’ll do fine here.”

It became obvious then that it wasn’t enough for her to simply _be_ there; scientists like the late Dr. Lucrecia Crescent, who had once come to talk at her elementary school had done that already. If Shera was going to survive, she needed to _excel_.

“I’ll try, Professor.”

\---

“Wait, you knew _the_ Lucrecia?”

Shera smiled. “Oh no, she and Dr. Gimoire Valentine came and gave a talk. I was really young then. It was mostly Dr. Valentine talking, really, that man was such a windbag. But the fact that she _existed_ really left an impression.”

Tifa leaned back. “Still. It’s strange. I never really thought much about her as a scientist I guess.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t. That’s probably the most tragic thing about her, really. Smart girls like you only know the soap opera retelling of her life. Not that I knew much about her _life_.”

The silence didn’t manage to get to uncomfortable between them, but Shera figured she’d better skip ahead to some kind of point.

\---

“I have utterly no idea how you’ve lasted this long in this program, Shera. You’ve taken Thermodynamics how many times?”

“Four.”

“And I’ve only got two spots for graduate research. Most of the applicants have far better academic performance.”

Shera had always been quiet, more out of observation than shyness, really. Why keep blathering on when she could sit and figure out what was going on? Unfortunately, this sometimes meant people assumed that she was kind of _slow_. And boldness, well, that was frankly right out.

“I... don’t people normally quit after they fail the first time?”

“My students rarely fail.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” It came out of her mouth before she’d had time to properly think about it. This wasn’t how an interview for graduate school was supposed to work at all. But she’d already been turned down by three professors, and there was no way she was going to go back home and admit that the past five years had been anything but a success.

She’d gotten the degree, struggling the entire time, but she got it. Shera had practically taught herself three levels of math for all the help she’d gotten from professors and assistants alike and there was no _way_ that had all been in vain.

“Pardon?”

“I read, Professor Drake. I know you don’t remember, but I took your entry level engineering physics course. Your research is in experimental propulsion methods, and you haven’t made much headway since before I started undergrad.”

Her palms were sweating. This was probably the worst idea, she was going to get blacklisted at the rate she was going. Shera hadn’t taken the other rejections personally, but it’s as if they all piled on top of her now and she couldn’t _stop_.

“I’m sure the problem isn’t with you. But maybe all these assistants you pick, who’ve never had to deal with failure, have had things come easy to them... maybe they are the problem? Isn’t research and engineering based on failure? Repeated and measured failures until a success is found?”

Professor Drake was quiet for some time. She was certain that she was going to have to see herself out, and wondered if she could just get a ticket to Junon instead, maybe get a job fixing boats...

“I think I do remember you now. The not genius that wrote down everything anyone ever said in class. Terrible with exams, but your homework was always very thorough and detailed, and constantly improving.”

She could only nod.

“Fine. If you fail out of graduate school, I suppose that can’t be my fault. But I had better see you in the lab all the time, and helping with the classes I have to teach. Can you be a merciless grader?”

Shera had been prepared for the ‘thank you for your time and rejection’ speech she’d used before, but really had no idea what say in the case she’d _succeeded_. Of course, the answer was obvious when she calmed down.

“I can only say I’ll try, professor.”

There would be paperwork, and Professor Drake seemed like the kind of man that made a decision and barreled into it at full speed. She tried to be polite and not look like the wide-eyed bumpkin she felt like again as he took her around and introduced her to several people in the department.

Shera had to wonder what kind of magic trick she’d pulled. It wasn’t like her entire undergraduate experience had been horrific; at most she’d experienced a benign sort of neglect. And there had been boys in some of her classes who had been very helpful, told her some key things so she didn’t keep spinning her wheels on the same problems over and over again. But she could never quite understand how it felt to be singled out for being _great_ instead of merely being an _anomaly_.

She almost felt like a fraud, even after she’d just defended her right to be there.


End file.
